


Kisses

by adelaide_rain



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-30
Updated: 2011-11-30
Packaged: 2017-10-26 17:06:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/285777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adelaide_rain/pseuds/adelaide_rain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aziraphale loses a bet and has to kiss Crowley. He discovers that it doesn't feel like losing at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kisses

"Well?"

"Dear boy-"

"You promised. It wouldn't be very angelic of you to break your promise."

"Yes, but - you could release me from it."

Crowley paused, and looked at his angel. "You want me to?"

"Why of course!"

"You _sure?_ "

Aziraphale looked up at him, looking as though he was actually thinking about it for the first time. He frowned, and then looked up, confused. "I- I'm not..."

Crowley smiled like a snake.

"That's not to say - um. I'm just not sure." He sounded even less sure, this time and more open to persuasion.

Persuasion was something Crowley was very good at and he knew just what sort of persuasion would work best. Leaning forward, he kissed the angel square on the lips - just the touch of lips on lips, lingering for a second before he sat back. He watched with delight as a look of wonderment passed over Aziraphale's face.

"Well, I never."

Crowley sniggered. "Nobody says that, angel."

"Nobody's been kissed by you before, then."

"You like?"

"Oh, yes." Aziraphale smiled. "I never realised it could just be like that, you know. I always thought there'd be, mmm, all sorts of messy strings attached." He must have caught Crowley's raised eyebrow. "Not literally, Crowley. I may be a little naive, but I'm not stupid. I meant relationship strings. Sexual strings."

Aziraphale saying 'sexual' sent a strange shiver down Crowley's spine. "Not if you don't want there to be."

Aziraphale astounded him by not refuting that immediately. Instead he looked shyly at the demon and leaned forward, golden curls meshing with night-black bangs. Yellow eyes, free of their usual wraparound shades looked, startled, into ethereally blue ones. Aziraphale closed his eyes he leaned forward, too-soft heavenly lips brushing against Crowley's. The kiss was tentative at first, soft, explorative. As Aziraphale got more confident and Crowley's shock wore off it evolved into something more, something the two of them had been wanting for centuries if only they had let themselves admit it. Soft angel tongue met not-quite-human demon tongue and danced briefly, heads moved position, and the dancers returned, tangling; and both beings were glad they didn't need to breathe.

When Aziraphale pulled away, Crowley was so tempted to pull him back but the light of revelation in Aziraphale's eyes made him pause.

"You taste like heaven feels," Aziraphale said.

The demon blinked at him, then sniggered. "Yeah, right." Aziraphale didn't laugh, just stroked a finger down the side of Crowley's face. The amusement drained out of Crowley's face. "Angel, I'm a demon. How can I "taste like Heaven feels"? You're just getting homesick or something."

"I mean it, Crowley. You... taste wonderful."

"Well, yeah," he preened. "But not heavenly."

Aziraphale shrugged and pulled him close again. "Let me taste again."

"You don't need to give me compliments to get me to kiss you, y' know."

"I know," Aziraphale smiled. "And it was a statement, not a compliment."

"You must be homesick. Go on a weekend break to the Silver City or something if it's that bad."

"I'd rather kiss you." They both paused with the knowledge that that statement meant something very, very important. Perhaps it shouldn't've been said. But it had been, and they both knew it was the truth. Neither of them knew what to say, so they didn't. They moved in unison to meet the others lips and both tasted Heaven there in one another's arms.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this originally in 2003, so there are many stylistic differences between this and my more recent stories. Since I still have something of a soft spot for it, here it is.


End file.
